


True

by MaroonCamaro



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Comfort Sex, First Time Together, Hand Jobs, Horny Rick, Kissing, M/M, Rick is Loud, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5082622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonCamaro/pseuds/MaroonCamaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>True: having all the expected or necessary qualities of a specifed type of person or thing<br/>: steadfast, loyal<br/>: honest, just</p><p>On the road to Alexandria some unusual sleeping arrangements prompt some unusual developments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you to the lovely [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie) for Beta-ing this thing.
> 
> And to [MermaidSheenaz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidSheenaz/pseuds/MermaidSheenaz) for giving encouragement. 
> 
> This was a little thought that popped into my head and wouldn't go away, despite the fact that I have four WIPs. I know it's been done before, but I hope you like it.

They’d never discussed it. Never planned it. Hell, they’d never even spoken the words aloud. He didn’t even remember how it started.

No, he did. It was after they’d picked up Abraham and his group. Before then neither of them slept at the same time; or while they were at the prison, in the same place. Before the prison the only time Rick could truly rest was when he knew Daryl was on watch. The only person he trusted enough to watch over the family while he slept.

Daryl would only sleep if Rick made him, pointed to a corner and forbade him to move until he’d gotten at least a couple of hours of sleep. He would go until he dropped if Rick didn’t. Rick had had Lori to make him sleep. She’d make room beside her, but Rick would sleep next to Carl instead. And since Carl was next to Lori, it was like he was with her as well.

Except he wasn’t. He couldn’t. Not yet. He was too busy keeping them alive to work on what happened with Shane and Lori. To contemplate forgiving her. Forgiving himself. The baby. His baby. No, too many other things were more important.

If T-Dog or Maggie and Glenn were on watch, then there were a few nights when he and Daryl slept at the same time.  But Rick was on one side of the family and Daryl was on the other, bracketing the group. To keep them safe.

But now they had Abraham, Tara and Rosita. Michonne and Sasha. And the rest of the family were now lean and hard. The only person who couldn’t protect themselves was little Judith. Anyone or anything that tried to get to her had to go through Carl.  And that was if they made it past the rest of the family.

So they were as safe as they could be in this new world. Probably even safer than at the prison. Safer with these  people. Hard people. Take-no-shit people. The people Rick could and would entrust his children’s lives with.

They were on their hundred mile hike to DC when they’d found a large farmhouse to spend the night. They could see for acres around the property, an anomaly in the foothills of Appalachia. The moon was half full, bright enough to see with night eyes, not so bright as to light up a room.

Abraham had taken first watch, Rosita with him as usual.  Michonne had volunteered for second watch and Carol would join her. Glenn and Maggie would take the last watch. The next night it would all switch up again. Rick had learned to let folks have a full night’s rest as often as possible, so no one went more than two nights without unless they were on high alert and somewhere too dangerous.

Everyone was piled up in the front room ready to turn in for the night. There were so many of them that they spread over the entire floor as well as the couch and loveseat. Eugene had the couch; Carl, holding Judith, the loveseat. The only place left for Rick that wouldn’t involve someone’s feet in his face was over in the corner where Daryl was arranging himself.

Daryl nodded his head at Rick, Rick nodded back. He would sleep next to Daryl tonight. Not that he minded, but he preferred their usual sleeping arrangements with them separated by the family.

As he lay down he noticed the couch blocked them from most of the family, he was about to get up, but Daryl stopped him with a hand to his arm.

“S’all right.  We’re good,” Daryl whispered.

He was right, they were good. For now. So Rick settled down, Daryl behind him so close he could feel Daryl’s breath on his neck.

Rick shivered. He felt something he hadn’t felt in a while. Something from before all of this. Something that didn’t belong here, in this time.

He almost contained his gasp. He was sure no one had heard it, at least not anyone other than Daryl.

“Ya all right?” Daryl asked in his rough whisper as he put a hand on Rick’s arm.

Rick nodded his head, afraid to speak. He tried to roll over on his stomach, to hide his shame, but Daryl still held his arm. Held him in place.

“S’ok. I got you. Been a while, yeah?”

Rick took a shaky breath and nodded his head, “Yeah, never even thought about it.”

“We’re good. Everybody’s sleepin’.” Daryl was still whispering right in Rick’s ear.

“No, it’s fine. Just ya blew on my neck and…”

“Hey, you need it.” Daryl insisted.

Daryl’s hand worked its way to the front of Rick’s jeans. He left it there, not moving, just giving slight pressure. Letting Rick adjust to another man touching him.

Rick closed his eyes and let his head fall back against Daryl’s head. He did need this. This release. This moment of peace. And there was no one he trusted more than Daryl to do it. Not Carol, or Michonne, none of the women really. Certainly no other man.

And maybe if they hadn’t been at the end of the world he wouldn’t even accept it from Daryl, but here they were. Fighting for every breath, for every step, every moment of life. He would take this and worry about it tomorrow.

Daryl grew bolder and started to rub along the length of Rick’s erection. Rick’s intake of breath barely heard beyond their little corner. Daryl took this as encouragement and squeezed, Rick hissing in pleasure.

“Shh...you sound like a walker and I sure as shit don’t want Michonne choppin’ my head off.”

Rick agreed wholeheartedly so he put a hand over his mouth to try and stifle himself. Daryl 'hmmmed' in Rick’s ear at the sight.

“Ready for more?”

Another nod.

Daryl slid his hand to the top of Rick’s jeans. The jeans that barely hung on Rick’s hips, the belt already on it’s last hole making a valiant effort to keep them up. Daryl had no trouble slipping his hand in without disturbing the barely useful belt.  

Rick bit his hand as Daryl maneuvered his dick around so that the tip was peeking out, the night air a caress. He opened his eyes to see Daryl staring at him, those eyes bright with something Rick had never seen before. Lust? No, something more. Something for later.

When Daryl started stroking, Rick lost whatever thought he’d had about what Daryl might be thinking. He’d forgotten how this felt. To be touched by another person. Touched like this, intimately, sexually.

Daryl was leaning over him now. His hand working a steady rhythm, his eyes never leaving Rick’s. His body flush to Rick’s.

Rick was full on panting now, the feel of Daryl on him like a windstorm taking his breath away. His hand came away from his mouth to grip Daryl’s arm tight. His feet scrabbling on the carpet for purchase so he could push harder into that tight fist.

Daryl would have none of it though, and threw a leg over one of Rick’s, pinning him. Anyone else would have been bucked off, but not Daryl, not now.

He was biting his bottom lip now, trying to hold back. He had no control over his extremities as they were busy trying to become one with Daryl.  Rick’s leg that wasn’t pinned down had wrapped itself around Daryl’s and the hand that wasn’t gripping Daryl’s arm had a fistful of Daryl’s shirt.

To an outside observer it might even look like they were grappling for their lives. But they were striving for release, Rick in the palm of Daryl’s hand, Daryl grinding against Rick’s hip.

When Rick felt the length of Daryl against his hip it was too much, he opened his mouth to cry out. But Daryl’s mouth was there, covering the moan that Rick couldn’t contain.

Rick fell into the kiss, taking what Daryl was offering. Giving back what was granted. Reveling in what was surrendered.   

The hairs of Rick’s beard caught in the sparse growth of Daryl’s, pulling on his chin.  Rick broke away from the kiss, “Sorry, my beard…”

“Shut up, I like it.” Daryl’s lips were less than a promise away from Rick’s before they were melded back together.

Daryl was all around Rick now, the two interlocking like a giant clockwork. Legs and arms and hands working together to bring them to the release that they both so desperately needed. Daryl still except for his hand and his mouth on Rick and his hips grinding, Rick moving restlessly and fitful wanting more than what they could safely have here and now.

The movement of Daryl’s hand quickened with the clear fluid from Rick’s cock, Daryl’s thumb swiping over the slit to gather more. Rick was getting close, his balls drawing up tight to his body.  Daryl was too, his movements becoming erratic, his kiss more desperate.

Daryl’s catch in his breath was the only clue that he’d finished. But it was sufficient for Rick to follow, Daryl’s quiet completion hedonistic enough in their stolen moment to give Rick what he needed. Rick’s whole body relaxed with it, his arms and legs falling away from Daryl, his head fell back to the floor, his eyes close.

Rick was just trying to decide if he would have to sacrifice a sock for clean up when he felt the warm swipe of Daryl’s tongue across his stomach.

“Jesus!” Rick could feel Daryl smirk at his quiet curse. He would get back at him next time.

Because there was a next time. And it was better, not so hurried, not so rushed. In an old fashioned motel they’d come across in western Virginia. A place that had been halfway fortified and had only taken a few hours for the family to get it fully closed up.

And again in a nursing home. And once in the loft of a barn. Whenever they could find a space to be alone.

The rest of the family may have suspected, hell he was pretty sure Michonne and Carol knew from the first night, but no one spoke of it. Not even Daryl and Rick. Just the two of them taking comfort in each other when they couldn’t with anyone else. It just was.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr y'all! Visit me there. 


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